


The Muse

by FangirlWolfie



Series: the Muse and her Artist [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backpacker Sirius, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Taking Care Of Remus, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, famous Remus, non-famous Sirius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 09:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14399460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlWolfie/pseuds/FangirlWolfie
Summary: Maybe it's time, he finds himself thinking as Arthur starts talking about this girl he's dating, Molly.Maybe… it's time to move on.Naturally that's the day Sirius calls him. Remus is stupid because he should say no. It's been too many years for him not to be able to just tell Sirius NO every damn time he comes calling. But he's weak. Remus googled "broken relationship" six months after meeting Sirius and read that people stay together because of what they gain from one another. As long as he gains something from being with Sirius and Sirius from being with him they're not going to stop seeing one another.Unless… Remus stops it. Because what is he really gaining at this point? Tears and record-breaking songs?He can live without both of those.





	The Muse

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to do a Remus/Sirius story. So here it is. The fandom has too few of them in my opinion. This story is a non-magical AU. 
> 
> Read the tags carefully if you think you'll need it, there are elements in this story that are sort of unhealthy, but I don't think there should be anything too bad.

_Remus_

Remus smiles back at the girl. Her teeths are straight and her eyes are fluttering like mad. It is almost sweet, the way she nervously curls her hair around her finger again and again. She is beautiful, but then again, so are them all.

“I really like your songs,” she says, her breath a bit shaky. It still baffles Remus to this very day that people like her, beautiful people who shouldn’t even look his direction, gets nervous when talking to him. Like they might not be up to his standards. But he’s used to it now, used to how people tense up and then talk faster while praying with wide eyes for him to pay attention to them, to not ignore their clumsy attempts at communication. He’s gotten used to calming the trembling models and actors, the shaking school girls and boys and the star struck baristas.

He used to be in their shoes, used to look up at the stars. But not anymore.

That’s not saying it’s easy. Despite Remus shining brightly he’s no closer to realising his dreams, to be happy. It’s sometimes even harder than before. Because now there are so many more than a few hundred people. So many more than a few smiling faces in the small crowd greeting him after a gig well done. Now there’s tens of thousands and Remus just don’t have time for them all. He used to know his fans, his loyal followers. Nowadays it’s just crowd after crowd of strangers. It’s horrible and callous but non-the-less the truth.

“Thank you,” Remus replies to the pretty model with a smile. She’s here at his latest release party, just as many others, and he don’t mind being talked to. It’s been a busy night and he’s got a good buzz going, so he honestly doesn’t mind. She’s nice about it as well, that’s always a plus.

“Like,” she gestures with her hands. And her hands _are_ beautiful. “Like, I love ‘ _Wayward Sweetheart_.’ It just really gets to me every time.”

She’s speaking about his most recent hit and Remus’ smile falter for a beat. Of course she loves _Wayward Sweetheart_. People wail and sob to it. If only they knew the reason behind the soft-spoken words. The reason that is a boy, of course it’s _a boy_. A stupid boy whose mother really should have taught him not to play with other people’s hearts.

It’s always been _a_ boy. No, that’s not correct… it’s always been _one_ boy.

“It’s a favourite,” he replies because the song currently is. It is ranked number one in the world right now. And how’s that even possible? Indie music was supposed to be dead. He don’t use computers, he don’t have a light show, he has a guitar and sometimes a piano. It shouldn’t be enough. But it is.

“It just breaks my heart every time.” She drifts off, her eyes sliding off his face as her emerald eyes glitter. “I- I had one of those,” she refocuses. “A wayward sweetheart.” Her voice starts gaining strength as she tosses her burning red hair over a slightly freckled shoulder. “He was so wild, free…”

Remus thinks of pitch black hair and silvery eyes. He thinks of backpacks and warm skin. Wild and free. They were words that used to make his chest expand, now cursed words, heavy and black in their appearance.

 _“… But we’re not allowed to keep the wind_ ,” she quotes his song, her long, slim fingers gripping his arm slightly. “ _We just have to smile as we watch it drift away_.”

Remus’ buzz is all but gone. And it had looked out to be a nice evening, even a pleasant one. But he guesses that’s what you get for inviting the world into your private life. For making songs about real people. “Yeah,” he swallows around nothing as he tries to politely excuse himself from the pretty model with her emerald green eyes and red hair. “Not making that mistake again,” he lies. “Falling for the wind.” He’s going to make that mistake again, going to make it at first chance-

She shakes her head. “I will.” She’s surprisingly honest where Remus is not. Or maybe Remus isn’t fooling anyone with the nervous bobbing of his head? He’s not even agreeing with her, and he’s too out of rhythm to be moving along to the erratic beat of “Moon Call.”

“Right,” he says because of no reason. He wonders where Albus went, he was supposed to be _right by your side young Lupin_.

 “Sorry,” the model lets go of his arm and takes a step back, her cheeks red. “Geeze that was depressing,” she sounds small and self-conscious even as she forces out a smile. “Didn’t mean to spill all over you about _my_ pathetic love life.”

Remus _does_ mind, but only because it reminds him of _his_ own.

Still, “It’s okay,” he promises despite it all being everything but. She tangles long fingers in her short skirt and Remus really do like her hands. They remind him of another pair of hands, just those are a bit bigger and rougher. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She looks at him, her cheeks reddening slightly. “I’d love to.”

***

Remus used to _not_ sleep with people. Well, he used to not sleep with people except one but now he does. Because Remus is not in a relationship and it would be stupid to act like he was. So he sleeps with people, not fairly many, but every now and again he finds someone with a sharp smile or a wicked sense of humour and that does it. Just like large hands, striking features and wild eyes.

The model’s name is Lily Evans and apparently she isn’t a model at all but rather a friend of Alice Longbottom. Lily isn’t even in the industry, instead she’s spending her days working as a librarian surrounded by books. Remus thinks that sounds like a lovely life and Lily is apparently amazing because she can quote Oscar Wilde. She can also quote Roald Dahl which is almost equally amazing.

Lily’s hands are really nice, and they feel soft but sturdy when she runs them over Remus’ body. He’s not as awkward as he used to be around someone new in his bedroom. But Lily is. She’s awkward and stutters and stumbles over her clothes and it’s all rather adorable. Remus guides her through it and kisses the freckles on her neck softy as they giggle into pillows smelling of home.

It’s nice, even soothing. Remus wonders if she could be _enough_?

“I don’t do this,” she whispers as she sinks down Remus’ cock around midnight, her thighs firm and body warm. She places her hands on Remus’ shoulders and breathes deeply. “But this feels okay… Right?”

Remus kisses her softly, but the jaw he’s cupping is too soft and the warmness around him too wet. He’s still moving with her though, still rocking into her slowly and hold her against him as they ride out wave after wave of pleasure together.

In the morning Lily’s still there and Remus makes her breakfast. Lily stopped being embarrassed somewhere around the second round of sex and Remus can’t help but think she’s a bit shiny. She eats breakfast topless, and every time Remus starts humming on _Single Ladies_ or _Barbie Girl_ she throws her head back and laughs.

“Do one more,” she demands and Remus starts singing on _Friday_ by Rebecca Black loud and clear.

After breakfast Lily stays for a bit longer and Remus discovers that he doesn’t mind. He’s content with hanging about because he’s got three weeks of doing nothing ahead of him and he might as well start now. They watch an episode of Game of Thrones and after that Lily dresses in yesterday’s clothing with a wry smile.

“The walk of shame,” she sighs but doesn’t seem particularly sorry.

“Walk out the back,” Remus tells her because sometimes there is paparazzi. He’s living a weird life.

But Lily just shakes her head. “I don’t mind.”

Remus wonder if she’s thinking about her wayward sweetheart. Probably.

Lily kisses like a storm. Sweeping in and leaving ruins behind. Remus allows his mouth to be plundered and when he places his large hands on Lily’s shoulders she shivers. He doesn’t plan to have more sex but suddenly Lily’s once more out of her clothes and bending over the couch. It’s nothing like last night, it’s more rough and fast. The atmosphere gets sort of weird and Remus can’t help but think of dark hair and sharp smiles. Of a velvet smooth voice breathing out _“Moony.”_

He doesn’t think he’s imagining the small “ _James_ ” coming from Lily as he’s moving inside her and this is sort of the worst sex he’s ever had.

Remus steps back immediately after he’s come. Not allowing his tired muscles any rest. He feels wrong and for a moment he can’t even look at Lily.  

“That was really good,” Lily lies as she slowly pushes herself off the couch. She looks like a mess as she starts dressing on shaking legs. “Shit,” she fumbles with her skirt and Remus steps forward a bit awkwardly. She starts shaking even worse and he can’t help but pulling her closer. Her breath is as erratic as his as he carefully cradles her head against his neck.

“Hush,” he whispers and this was a mistake, this last fuck, because Remus feels shame welling up and he can’t seem to forget silvery eyes. He tries to get rid of the unwanted image, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s not being unfaithful to anyone.

“It’s been a year,” Lily suddenly starts crying. “I should be able to do this, I should be allowed to have sex with someone not him.”

“Yes,” Remus agrees because sometimes life isn’t fair. And he knows that he’s going to see Lily again, just as he knows he’s never ever going to have sex with her again. Lily’s not his and he’s not Lily’s after all. But she’s still beautiful, and for some reason she and his fate have turned out to be the same. Abandoned. Left longing.

It’s sad. The two of them are sad. _But_ , he can’t help but think as he rubs her back soothingly, _misery loves company. Always will_.

***

Next day Lily’s in the rags. It’s not a mean piece but it clearly implies that she’s been warming Remus’ bed for the night. Remus wonders if _He_ will see. Probably not, _He_ might as well be on the other side of earth for all Remus knows.

It’s a quiet day and Remus hangs out with Arthur for the first time in maybe six months. Arthur and he used to be close mates but things have changed a lot in these last two years. But Arthur is Arthur and he’s smiling and Remus finds some of the darkness chased away from his mind.

 _Maybe it’s time,_ he finds himself thinking as Arthur starts talking about this girl he’s dating, Molly _. Maybe… it’s time to move on_.

Naturally that’s the day Sirius calls him. Remus is stupid because he should say no. It’s been too many years for him not to be able to just tell Sirius NO every damn time he comes calling. But he’s weak. Remus googled “broken relationship” six months after meeting Sirius and read that people stay together because of what they gain from one another. As long as he gains something from being with Sirius and Sirius from being with him they’re not going to stop seeing one another. Unless… Remus stops it. Because what is he really gaining at this point? Tears and record-breaking songs?

He can live without both of those.

So he should stop it.

But instead Remus says yes because despite being a multi-millionaire song writer and singer he’s always been and always will be unable to tell Sirius no. He corrects himself, he has been unable to tell Sirius now. But he’s _not_ going to stay unable, he’s going to have to learn to tell Sirius no, he has to.  

When Remus gets back to his apartment the door is open and he takes a few steadying breaths. He runs through what’s going to happen when he walks in through the door. Sirius will be on the other side, probably on the couch with his trusty backpack beside him. He’s going to smile that wild and heartbreakingly handsome smile and while Remus might want to fold he’s not going to. Instead he’s going to tell Sirius they need to talk and then tell him “ _them_ ” is going to stop. Tell him that he’s never again going to fuck, suck or kiss Sirius because he’s _bored_.

Yes, bored. Then maybe Sirius is going to be the one hurt for once? God knows Remus has spent enough days wailing into his pillow and guitar for it to last a lifetime. He’s written songs, he’s relived every goddamn memory on arenas and in studios.

He needs to stop writing songs about the wind.

When Remus steps in he has convinced himself of what’s going to happen. But of course that’s not what happens.

Because Sirius _isn’t_ smiling when he walks in. Or rather, he does smile. But he’s doing a really bad job of it and Remus can tell at once. Something is wrong. Sirius is sad.

“Hey,” Remus says slowly as he steps out of his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket. He stares at his forearms for a second just to gather himself despite knowing, somewhere deep down, that he’s not going to tell Sirius to get out. Not a sad Sirius.

Remus got tattoos on his forearms. He’s staring at them right now, trying to gather courage. He didn’t plan to get them but somewhere along the way he doodled trees around his wrist and the shadow of a wolf on the other arm. Then he decided he liked it and made his mindless doodles permanent. He thinks it’s pretty, the rest of the world seems to agree. At least they make a good distraction as he gathers himself to face a sad Sirius.

Sirius doesn’t say anything for a beat too long. Then he gets out, in a forced casual tone, “Sup’ Moony?”

Remus isn’t usually one for nicknames but his heart beats a beat faster when that one falls form Sirius’ lips. He’s always been Moony with him. He doesn’t believe the wolf howling against the moon on his right forearm has something to do with Sirius, but he also knows he’s telling himself a lie.

“All good,” Remus says and turns to Sirius. He can’t help but take in ruffled dark hair, high cheekbones, full lips, silvery eyes and a fit body. Sirius is the kind of boy your mother warned you about but at the same time he’s not. Sirius is kind and brave but most of all stupid and ignorant. Remus loves him regardless.

Sirius nods but he’s still a bit off.

“Where to next?” Remus nods towards Sirius’ worn backpack by his side. “America? Japan? Australia?”

Sirius gives him a bleak version of his usual trademark smirk. “Isn’t that my question to ask? You’ve got a tour coming up in...?”

“Three weeks,” Remus informs him, moving towards the kitchen and putting on the boiler. Sirius looks like he’s in need of tea.

The ignorant boy on his couch whistles low. “Go figure. Proper famous and all.”

“I’ve been proper famous for a good two years Padfoot,” Remus tells him, adding a nickname of his own to the sentence. Wondering, as he’s preparing the tea, what happened to the plan. Wasn’t he supposed to tell Sirius this couldn’t happen anymore? Them?

Sirius joins him in the kitchen, his tall body present like nothing else as he leans against the counter. “I know, don’t I?” He sounds a bit sad, not even able to poorly conceal it anymore. “Can’t get rid of your voice, it’s everywhere.”

Remus snorts as he adds the Early Grey and then, after a few beats, milk.

“It’s gone well,” Remus is being a modest shit but he’s not interested in discussing raging success and his face on billboards worldwide.

“You’re really good,” Sirius is subdued but it still makes Remus’ heart warm. His stupid wasted heart.

“Thank you.” He always answers that way, doesn’t know what else to say. There’s silence again, and there usually isn’t silence.

“I’m coming back,” Sirius sounds nervous. “I… I’m going to start university properly and get a degree and all.”

Remus curses as tea spill out over the counter, he poured in too much milk. It’s almost a race for the paper as Sirius hurries and tries to reach it at the same time as Remus.

“I got this-”

“No, I can-”

It ends with Sirius wiping up the mess on the counter and Remus taking his tea – the un-spilled one – to the living room to sit on the couch. His hands are shaking and there’s almost nothing else he can hear except a strange white noise. He remembers earlier this morning, how he’d fucked Lily here, over the backrest. He shouldn’t have done that. He really, really shouldn’t have done that.

The tea is too hot as it scalds his tongue but he doesn’t even feel it.

Sirius sits down beside him carefully, almost like he’s afraid he might spook Remus into running away. His hands are trembling as well.

“Nothing has to change,” he promises and his voice breaks on the last word. Remus wonders what’s going on because things will change. Sirius was supposed to chase the wind, always, he wasn’t supposed to come back to stay. “If you want to see me you call, I call, like we usually do.”

They don’t ‘ _usually’_  do anything, they do ‘ _unusually’_ , always. Sirius has never been home for long enough to turn them into usually.

Remus takes another sip, the scolding heat not even bothering him as he gulps down the burning liquid.

“Hey,” Sirius sound hesitant. Or at least Remus thinks he sounds hesitant, he doesn’t really know exactly what to think anymore. “Whatever you want,” he sounds sad, like maybe he’s afraid Remus won’t want to see him anymore. Remus should use this opportunity, should say that: ‘ _maybe it’s best if we don’t…_ ’

But Remus is still in denial, because Sirius is a wanderer. And _this_ doesn’t make sense.

“Why the sudden change?” Remus can’t help but ask, his tongue thick in his mouth.

Sirius four years ago had set out and promised never to be back. Or if back, at least not for long. Just long enough to break Remus’ heart a bit and then be on his way towards new horizons.

“It’s not the same as it was,” Sirius confesses. His eyes flicker down. “James is coming back as well and it’s…” He pauses, almost as if he has to really think about what he’s saying and that’s not like Sirius, not like him at all. “…It’s lonely.”

Remus nods as if he’s understanding anything that’s coming out of Sirius’ mouth. James had only been with Sirius the last year, Sirius had dealt fine the three years before. And why university? Hadn’t Sirius been bragging about managing as a traveling bartender?

“What are you studying?” It’s like an interrogation but Remus really can’t help himself. His foot is tapping against the floor as if he needs to go to the loo despite that he doesn’t, he just needs to get this. Sirius is coming home to stay.

“I’m becoming a teacher.”

Remus can’t help but let out a laugh. After a second Sirius joins and for a moment everything feels normal. But then Remus realises Sirius going to become a teacher and Sirius is going to come home and despite all that things won’t change.

 _Things don’t have to change_ , Sirius had said.

“What do you mean?” Remus don’t care that there is tea being spilled. He doesn’t care that maybe he seems slightly mad. “You said things don’t have to change. How _would_ they change?”

Sirius’ smile fade and his face is blank, his hands fluttering about, like a butterfly who can’t decide where to land. “Maybe,” he swallows and looks down at his hands; his large beautiful hands. “Since I’m here and all, we could meet up more?”

Remus blinks once, twice. “Meet up more?”

“Or not,” Sirius drags a large hand through his dark strands and it is all so fucking casual to him. Like suggesting they meet up more isn’t going to literally tear Remus apart, like meeting up more will be fun. Fuckbuddies fun. Like it doesn’t matter to Sirius anyhow, he has no shortage of people lining up to sleep with him. Remus is just one of many.

Remus has had years of practice presenting a calm façade when he in reality just want to scream out loud. Maybe from the beginning he would have cracked, but after dealing with paparazzi and screaming crowds he’s got this. Like an Oscar winning actor, he’s got this. “Don’t know,” he answers with forced calm instead of a screaming _NO_. Instead of just telling Sirius they aren’t going to meet up more, actually they aren’t going to meet up at all and would he please get out of Remus’ life, he’s already messed it up enough.

“Like,” and Sirius seems sad again, nothing like the whirlwind of smiles and adventures that he usually is. “I’ve missed you. I always miss you.”

It’s a funny thing, his lack of self-preservation. Remus is pretty sure life works by trying, failing, trying again, _succeeding_. Is he the only one with this kind of self-destructive behaviour? He tried with Sirius a long time ago and look what happened… nothing. They’re still little more than strangers.

“I don’t know Pads,” Remus says as he stands up from the couch, he needs space. “You’re back here, settling down and everything. Maybe you should try to find someone, get a university-girlfriend.”

Sirius let out a hoarse laugh. “I don’t really want that right now.”

 _Will he ever_ , Remus wonders as he paces a bit back and forth. He should throw Sirius out, this has gone on long enough, but he can’t. And then Sirius comes up behind him and puts his large hands on his shoulders holding on slightly.

“Are you okay?” He asks as if he actually cares. And then there’s the little kisses down his throat. Remus is melting, as always putty in Sirius’ hands. “I can make you forget what’s troubling you,” Sirius sounds insistent between kisses. “Moony.”

Remus should know better, but that’s easy to think. And it is different with Sirius. It’s different in the way he frames Remus’ face with his large hands and places small, butterfly kisses over his cheekbones, his nose. It’s different in the way he whispers, “you’re beautiful Moony,” like Remus is some damsel he needs to assure at every turn. And maybe he is, because Remus drinks up the words like a man dying of thirst.

Remus wonders how he’ll ever think of anyone else as enough as he’s drowning in Sirius’ silvery eyes. They move to the bed and suddenly Remus is looking up at Sirius face, and feels him thrust into him slowly but inevitable, like the tide. He wonders how he could ever fool himself that he’d ever be able to give this up; Sirius’ lips brushing his, hands intertwining and the warmth of bodies sliding together – _their_ bodies sliding together. Of how while they are like this, with Sirius deep inside of Remus and Remus clinging to a body far stronger than his, he feels at peace, like maybe he discovered a slice of heaven right here on earth.

It’s a bit like coming home after touring for years.

And Sirius isn’t making it easier with the way his hands travel over the expanse of Remus’ skin, like it’s something precious. Letting go of Remus’ hands carefully, all the while rocking gently into him and sharing breaths. “You’re wonderful,” he whispers but where he’s usually happy, maybe a bit teasing, this time he’s reverent. His hands cup Remus’ sides, dancing over ribs all too visible underneath pale, stretched skin. “So good to me,” he then whispers and Remus hates that he manages to feel loved despite this being nothing more than a fuck. A sliding of flesh and minds getting filled with endorphins.

To have Sirius whisper to him like this is something _more.._. It’s just too much.

He pushes Sirius back. Sirius slips out of him, upper body detaching from Remus’ chest as he looks at him with a worried expression. “Hey,” he asks, clearly nervous. Sirius would hate to hurt another human being, despite already having hurt Remus beyond imaginable. “Are you okay? Was it too much?”

But Remus turns away from searching silvery eyes, his heart beating hard and painful against his ribs. He easily gets up on his arms and knees, turning away from Sirius. Like this, maybe it won’t hurt as much?

Sirius is careful as he places large hands on Remus’ hips, slipping into him with care. He’s hesitant, Sirius isn’t usually hesitant.

It’s not really fine after that. But at least it doesn’t hurt as much as it did before. Sirius thrust into Remus with vigour as Remus tells him to do it _harder, faster_. But his hands remain gentle, they aren’t bruising Remus’ hips and they pet him. Even like this, turned away and grasping the sheets it’s impossible to forget who’s moving inside him. But at least Remus doesn’t have to look Sirius in the face. Doesn’t have to supress the tears pooling in his eyes.

It takes a long while, and the pleasure doesn’t really make up for how Remus feel like his soul is being drained. Especially when Sirius bites out a “I love when you’re like this. _Moony_.”

But he doesn’t love Remus. He just loves fucking him. And that hurts because Remus can’t even remember a time when he didn’t love Sirius, when he didn’t search for a way to maybe make him love him back. He’d composed songs, he’d written poetry, he’d even waited. For so many years he’d waited.

When they’re done both Sirius and Remus has gotten off. They fall down beside one another on the bed, Remus remains turned away from Sirius.

Sirius tries to cuddle next to him, tries to softly stroke Remus down his back and this is not working anymore.

“Listen,” Remus say as he gets up from the bed on trembling legs. He feels sore and miserable. “I have work early in the morning.” He doesn’t, he’s free for three weeks straight.

“Oh,” Sirius’ voice is small and he’s hesitating from where he’s sitting on the bed, long legs and arms on display, his torso a marvel with its muscles and easy curves.

Sirius usually sleeps over. Usually they have sex in the morning as well and Remus makes breakfast for Sirius, good breakfast – because if it’s good enough maybe he’ll stay. But Remus is tired and his heart isn’t getting used to the constant hits. So maybe he can do this, distance himself slowly but surely? But then again, maybe he can’t.

“But we’ll talk later.” It’s a dismissal and perhaps Sirius is hurt because Remus doesn’t dismiss Sirius, he clings to him, begs for kisses. He isn’t cold. But of late things have changed. Remus has realised that Sirius will always be traveling… except now he won’t.

He’ll find someone. A nice girl or boy who is just as adventures as Sirius, who likes to travel, who looks just as gorgeous and laughs just as loudly. Someone else he can hold close and whisper to, someone not Remus.

Sirius is coming up behind him, so small and quiet. It’s baffling, but maybe he’s just unsure about what’s going on. Remus should tell him, it’s not his fault Remus have been helplessly in love with him for years and years. It’s not his fault that Remus is maybe deciding to let this wasted love go.

“We don’t have to meet more,” he says, hand making an aborted movement towards Remus’ arm. Like maybe he’s afraid it’s not welcome anymore. “We can meet up whenever you want to… I- I just thought it might be nice now that I’ll be here.”

Remus sighs. “There’s others you know,” he settles on. For so many years it hadn’t been others and the first time it had been Remus had thrown up afterwards. He’d not be able to look himself in a mirror for a month. Now sew with others is almost mechanical, but mostly, it’s painless.

Sirius swallows and look down on the floor. “Of course,” his voice sounds hoarse. “I’ll be here, waiting.”

 _No, you won’t_ , Remus thinks. _You’ll be letting the first pretty boy whose willing suck your cock do it and one day you’re going to decide that one of those boys have stolen your heart. And that’s never going to be me._

So they say goodbye. And perhaps Remus has to sit for an hour afterwards with his head in his hands, silently crying. Perhaps he has to stay up the whole night to write another hopeless song about how a wind might settle but it will never be yours to hold. Perhaps Remus calls up Lily despite them having nothing more in common than falling in love with the wind. And perhaps that makes him feel better.

Lily’s quiet voice and the way she’s accepting and even manages to make him laugh.

The next day Remus wants to call Sirius. He wants to call him and apologise for being cold and perhaps even cruel, but he doesn’t. He isn’t cruel, he’s protecting himself no matter how small Sirius with his broad hands and huge heart had looked.

Lily comes over with Ben & Jerry and they watch Titanic.

“At least they had each other,” Remus says as it’s finished. “At least they met again on the ship when she died.”

Lily’s hair is a wild tangle and she has a spoonful of Fish Food in her mouth. “You know this is just a movie.” The words are muffled but Remus still gets the gist.

“You’re sitting in the penthouse of Remus Lupin,” he says because despite him being miserable he’s still a little shit. “You shouldn’t sit there talking about ‘ _just a movie’_.”

“Getting a bit arrogant?” she bites back. The pillow Lily sends his way is entirely deserved. For a while they bicker, and things are fine, almost good. Lily’s eyes are burning and she’s nice to hang out with. It’s even better what they’re doing now, cuddling and fighting a pillow war than when they had had sex two days ago. Well, technically one day ago.

They settle after a while and Lily leans on Remus as she continues to eat of the no longer cold ice-cream. “You know,” she says and cuddles closer, lifting Remus’ arm and placing it around her. He doesn’t mind the small figure of warmth at his side, he squeezes her shoulder.

“What?”

Her eyes are a bit red. “He texted me yesterday. It’s like he knew I’d tried to move on. Just when I actually had given up hope.” She doesn’t sound excited, Remus knows the feeling.

“How do you feel?” He’s careful as he slowly pushes locks of hair from her reddening face. Tears are pooling in her eyes, overflowing easily.

“Awful,” she answers. “He left once. What’s to stop him from doing it again?”

Remus doesn’t know, after all, they’re in the same boat which leaves them with little else to do than hold one another as they cry. Cry for the boys who leave and then come back and then leave again. Remus wonders how long it will take for Sirius to get tired of studying, to start longing for the world and freedom once more.

 _A month_ , he thinks. _Maybe half a year with some luck_.

They watch the Holiday, which is a mistake, because Remus is wailing at the end of it. Pretty much in the same pitch as Lily and Remus knows this because he plays music for a living.

Later on he plays some of his songs for Lily and they cry some more. When Tonks drops by as Lily’s giving Remus a massage with way too much lotion.

Tonks stops at the door, her hair a lovely shade of purple this afternoon. “Hey,” she sounds cautious.

“This is Lily,” Remus proudly declares and Lily waves hi, in the process flinging lotion everywhere.

Tonks simply raises an eyebrow. “I know who she is, she was in the rags yesterday. Something about a one night stand.”

Lily waves a hand again, making Remus’ carpet turn from dark grey to spotted with white. “Yeah, we’re not doing that again.” She gives Remus slick back a resounding pat. “Sorry love but we’re not.”

Remus already knew this, but it’s nice Lily had realised it as well. “Lily might be my twin soul in love,” Remus adds which don’t make sense but in a way it really does.

Lily might be nodding, but it’s hard to tell. “Never fall for stupid boys with backpacks.”

“Amen,” Remus sighs.

Tonks just stare at them some more. “Right,” she sounds anything but sure. But Tonks join them because Tonks is awesome that way, telling Remus about the tour schedule one last time and details that has changed, all while painting Lily’s toenails.

It might be the first time in a long while Remus hasn’t been staring at nothing the whole day after a meet up with Sirius. Instead he’s laughing and crying and spending time with two remarkable girls. And Lily’s still quoting Oscar Wild and Remus is a bit happy. Despite it all he’s the tiniest bit happy.

And that’s enough. It has to be.

***

_Sirius_

Things _aren’t_ fine. Sirius is living in a cramped dorm room and he can’t seem to stop shaking. It was stupid of him to expect things he think. He also has to start studying and perhaps eat some noodles and definitely call James. He might need to cry a bit more, if only he had tears left.

But Sirius don’t allow his aching chest to stop him as he slowly starts doing things, important things like turning on the lights and going to the loo. Later he seats himself at his desk with a thick book about pedagogy and teaching methods. He opens the book, takes a pen and then he stares down at the text-filled pages.

The words don’t quite make sense but Sirius persists, maybe he’ll forget about other things, about how things are slowly falling apart.

In the end he does have more tears and his book gets wet.

Sirius don’t really know what to do because he’s just stuck here, miserable and with his heart in his throat. Uni isn’t starting until tomorrow and despite how he should be prepared he can’t seem to do anything about it. His mind is just stuck on _Moony, Moony, Moony_.

They’ve been friends for years and it had been good, what they had had been really, really good. Sirius isn’t one to grow to attached to people, too used leaving people behind to catch the next plane but Moony was different. He’d found himself returning to England just to be able to have another night of soft kisses, loud reading and delicious breakfast.

Moony had been such a dork in the beginning. Big sweaters and kind brown eyes, he’d been nervous and cute and he’d clung to Sirius as if was the only thing in this world worth anything. Like he was the only solid thing. It had been maddening, so maddening.

Despite how it should have been a summer of nothing back then, Sirius had found himself returning to England and calling Moony. They’d clashed together and Sirius couldn’t get enough, he’d get by a couple of months just fine, but then he needed Moony, needed him like air in his lungs.

He should have realised then. Should have left promises instead of post-its with smileys and ‘X’s. But he hadn’t and that had been fine. Even when Moony, little Moony had grown famous and worshipped it had been fine.

Sure, Moony had grown slightly jagged, his cheekbones sharper and adorableness fading. But he was still Moony, he still quoted strange books and made Sirius breakfast. He still held him close and let out small huffs in his ear.

The first time Sirius realised Moony had slept with someone _not_ him he’d felt strange. It was inventible because they didn’t make promises and Sirius had been taking boys and girls from all over the world to bed when it struck his fancy, but Moony…

Moony had become famous and if there was one thing all knew about famous people was that they got laid. And Moony wasn’t only famous, he was a singer and songwriter. He wrote love-songs for Christ sake, horrible love songs that made Sirius ache. So of course Moony had his pick of whoevers, of models with mile long legs and actors with muscles and million dollar mansions. And of course Sirius had nothing compared to them.

But Moony still wanted him. And despite Sirius figuring out way too late that maybe he wanted Moony back a bit too much for it all to be casual, he decided to settle. Because Moony wouldn’t go for him. Not now, not when he was touring the world and lived in a penthouse. Not when he was spotted making out with an actress, or a model, or just a very beautiful boy who _whops_ , apparently was royalty.

But it was okay, because Moony was so good to him, was still so unbelievable good.

And Sirius just had to turn greedy.

He sniffs brokenly into his text book because he knew that one day Remus would grow tired of him. It had been a miracle that they’d been able to see each other at all after Remus began touring and Sirius continued traveling. But maybe Sirius had been keeping tracks of it all, maybe he’d returned to England the same day as the touring ended, because maybe this time he could stay with Remus for two days, three days, four?

And now he’d ruined it all.

He should just settle for what he got, he shouldn’t have suggested they meet more. _Stupid_.

He calls James despite it being night because James has been by his side for a year, he’s been his trusty traveling buddy and the same person who’d suggested they settle down for real, grow roots.

“There’s this girl,” James had confessed somewhere on a beach in Thailand. It had been night, and the moon had shined down on them and the water. “I thought it be alright to just travel for a bit, you know being wild and free.”

Sirius had nodded even as he’d thought about Moony’s curls and the way they felt against his fingers. All silky and soft.

“But I miss her, and I’m scared.” James had cried for the first time, and they didn’t do that, cry in front of each other but that didn’t matter then. James had cried even as he’d manage to force out “What if she’s moved on?!”

And then Sirius had thought about Moony again, of how would never have him anyhow so what was even the point of trying, and he thought about that maybe he should try anyhow? If it didn’t work they could at least continue to meet up until Moony grew tired of it all… And if it worked…

Sirius had booked tickets back to England and enrolled at Uni the same week. He might also have ruined all his chances to be with Moony ever again.

So he calls James, because James cried on him once and he figure it’s time he returns the favour.

But it doesn’t turn out that way.

“It’s her,” James cries into the phone and Sirius doesn’t know what’s going on.

“What?” He asks and for a blissful moment he forgets about Moony and his low baritone voice. The voice singing about love and chasing the wind.

“It’s all in the gossip rags,” he whimpers. “She fucked some celebrity.”

“Maybe it was a one-night stand,” Sirius immediately insists because that’s what he convinces himself whenever he sees Moony together with someone pretty and rich. “It doesn’t have to mean a thing.”

“You know she was my first and I was hers.” James can’t be reasoned with, he’s plainly broken as he mutters about how he’s ruined it all. How he didn’t mean for this to happen. How Lily’s moved on with someone called _Remus Lupin_.

***

Sirius would like to say that he _doesn’t_ drown himself in cheap liquor and gets himself plastered beyond belief. But that would be a lie.

Lily Evans has beautiful long red hair and emerald eyes. People have for some reason decided that she’s the one. That Lily Evans is the one who fits with Remus Lupin and that their babies are going to be adorable.

The alcohol makes everything dull, but at least that’s better than being torn apart. Sirius tortures himself by reading ten different articles about the same thing, about how Lily Evans, friend of Alice Longbottom (singer) managed to score the man, the legend, Remus Lupin. And perhaps she’ll sooth his jaded heart? Maybe she’ll manage to make his songs turn happy? Perhaps they’ll have beautiful babies with emerald eyes and curly hair?

James doesn’t come over and Sirius wonders if his heart has imploded in the same way as Sirius’ has? He wonders if maybe this pain will be with him forever now and he’ll just have to live carrying all this around inside of him?

The worst part is that he could have had him. Remus had loved Sirius in the beginning, he’s sure of it. The way he’d allowed Sirius to spread him open that first time, cheeks red and eyes wide and innocent. He’d clutched at Sirius and begged him not to go afterwards. He’d demanded to be held.

And he’d loved Sirius, and perhaps Sirius had loved him, he’d just been too dumb to see it.

And now that didn’t matter anymore.

The morning is bad and Sirius misses his first day of Uni. Instead he lies in bed, crying pathetically. Wondering how he’s supposed to go on and how everything had seemed so easy. Perhaps he should give this all up? Perhaps he should go out traveling again? Just walk until he gets lost, a wandering legend walking the earth.

It’s a good way to live your life, perhaps not the best, but that’s already passed, the little moment of possibility for _the best_ , for _the happiest_.

But then all of a sudden Moony calls and Sirius tries to hide how his voice is a mess, how he’s a mess and how he’s irrevocably in love with Remus ‘Moony’ Lupin and that it hurts. It hurts really badly.

His heart is still beating faster though, and it’s hopeful and despite everything hurting Sirius is feeling better. Just hearing Moony’s soft “ _Hello_?” makes this whole terrible morning better. Happier.

Of course. That happiness doesn’t last very long.

“I’ve been thinking,” Moony tells him, and that doesn’t sound good. Not even a little. “We should talk.”

They decide on a small café rather than at Moony’s grand apartment and Sirius knows what this is. He knows this is the end.

Whenever Moony has called, the few times that he had, Sirius has always come running. But this time he doesn’t. This time he stares at the clock as it passes the time they decided to meet up. He feels numb.

Sirius thinks that there was a time when he was strong, even cool. When he knew exactly who he was, a rebel, a wanderer, someone who would never be tamed. He’d been the kid who’d escaped his aristocratic family and stopped giving a damn about being proper and well-raised. He’d pictured himself as someone who would wander the world with friends in every city.

He hadn’t counted on a little boy with a large smile and brown eyes, he hadn’t counted on Moony. And he’s trying, he’s prepared to give up things just to perhaps be with Moony a little bit more, but it’s for nothing. What he’s doing is for nothing.

Moony wants to end things. He wants to sit down and tell Sirius that this is not going to continue happen. And just maybe, if Sirius don’t go to the café, doesn’t talk to Moony, maybe there’s the possibility of ignorance? At least then, he can fool himself into thinking that Moony just wanted to meet up, he just wanted to have tea together. He didn’t want to break Sirius’ heart clean in two. Just two cups of tea and the two of them.

There’s another day that goes by, another day of university and courses starting and Sirius is still not going. What is even the point?

He knows this isn’t good, he even googles it briefly and every advice every article has for him is to find new things, to stop dwelling on what will never be. Easier said than done though. Sirius tried to go to the store to buy food but then they were playing one of Moony’s songs and he just panicked. He ran back home, breath uneven and hands shaking. He laid on the floor for a couple of minutes, heart thudding like mad and tears pouring.

An article named: _He’s moving on without you?_ told him that you have to break out of unhealthy patterns. It said that you have to force yourself not to associate things with him, it will only hurt you further. Sirius is pretty sure the article didn’t take into account that the guy you were trying to get over was a fucking superstar. One of the largest in the world probably.

Sirius is lying on his bed when his phone calls and he looks at the screen. It’s Moony. It even says Moony, and there’s a picture of little Moony, when he still had puffy cheeks and adoring eyes. Sirius misses that Moony, the one who’d loved him. He’s more gorgeous now, hotter, but he’s not in love with Sirius and he fucks other people.

Sirius used to hate relationships, saw them as binding. He was much more for sleeping around, share the love and such bullshit. He wonders now, years too late if Moony ever got upset? He hadn’t seem upset at the time, he’d always been curious and with that beaming smile on his face. But maybe Sirius had been wrong? Perhaps Moony had cried himself to sleep after Sirius told him about this girl he’d met? Perhaps his insides had been cracking and his eyes burning? Perhaps Sirius had hurt him something terrible…

Sirius simply doesn’t know.

Moony gives up after two tries and Sirius hates himself almost as much as he pities the small shell of a broken _wild thing_ that he is.

James calls later in the night and his voice sounds raw. “We can’t keep doing this.” He tells Sirius gravely. “It will kill us.”

Maybe it will. Sirius thinks back on when Moony had told him about how back in the days, during the Romanticism era it was considered an act of bravery to die in the name of love. It’s strange because when Moony had told him this he’d shook his head, _Stupid to give up like that_ , he’d said.

So, Sirius gets up because James is right. He hasn’t eaten for two days and he meets up with James at that shitty burger shack two blocks away.

“I’ve been thinking,” James says as they meet up. His eyes are red and he looks like a mess. Hair everywhere, clothes wrinkled and he smells faintly in a way that doesn’t bode well. Sirius wonders if he himself looks that bad.

Probably worse.

“About what?” Sirius thanks the lady bringing them the burgers, his stomach making an odd sound as he takes a bite. Christ, he hadn’t noticed he was this hungry before.

“I love Lily, probably. But I must realise that I might have blown my chance.”

The words hurt, like knifes cutting deep and accurate. Probably because it’s the truth. “Yeah,” Sirius looks down at the table, taking another small bite of his burger.

“And I have to live with that. With me fucking us up. But whatever happens, I want her to know how I feel.”

Sirius feels slightly alarmed because James is honest and he’s going to get hurt. “What are you going to do?” he asks. “Talk to her?”

James is shaking his head like Sirius is mad. “Of course not! I’m going to write her a letter.”

Sirius is sceptical, something he suspects shows on his face because James sighs deeply as he takes a large bite of his burger. Two beats later and Sirius jumps up from his seat to aid James by smacking his back repeatedly as he coughs violently.

“Fuck,” James sobs out after coughing up a piece of burger. There are tears in his eyes and Sirius gracefully pretends it’s because of the burger-incident. “I don’t know what else to do! I have to at least try!?”

So, in the end they spend four hours at the burger shack as James word by word writes down his short letter.

“Shouldn’t it be longer?”

“No, just tell her what you feel, don’t drag it out. She won’t want to read something page-long unless she feels the same.” Sirius read that advice on the internet.

James write a short but sweet letter where he tells her _sorry_ for not noticing his love for her earlier when they were together. Sorry for just leaving out of the blue but he’d been scared and the future had been too close. Sorry for doing this now when Lily had moved on. And if nothing else, just know that I, James, love you.

Sirius fights the tears because maybe he should send a letter as well? Moony is giving up on him, have perhaps already given up on him, and his response is to hide. To prolong the inventible. Perhaps he should straighten up, take charge as he had when he was young and brave? Perhaps that would be for the very best.

They order each a milkshake and James does a lame joke about bringing girls to the yard. It’s ridiculous but it eases the knot in Sirius’ stomach just a bit.

“It’s strange,” James confesses, clutching the small letter in his hand as they watch people move outside the window. “It feels better. Despite us perhaps nothing working out, at least she’ll know how I feel and I’ll know she knows. At least I’ve given it my all.”

It’s a good conclusion Sirius supposes. “I think I should write a letter too.”

James smiles at him crookedly, his round glasses reflecting the setting sun. “The mysterious Moony is it?”

Sirius nods because he hasn’t told anyone about Moony being Remus Lupin, he wouldn’t be that cruel. But it feels strange, because Lily got together with Remus Lupin and Remus Lupin is his Moony. Just thinking about that the girl James loves has been with Moony, has kissed him… It hurts. More than any strange celebrity or athlete getting it on with _his_ Moony, Lily is… She’s real.

“Moony wants to end things.”

James nods because he knows this. “Then perhaps it’s time to give it one last try. It’s not worth it in the end you know… Clinging to something that would rather not see you again.”

Sirius nods and feels miserable. He drinks some from his Cookies and Cream milkshake, but the sweetness is gone, now it just tastes bitter. “The worst part is that there was this timeframe you know. Where we could have gotten together. But I was a dick when I was young.”

“You were a trouble maker,” James sounds calm as he sips his chocolate shake. “But I get what you mean.”

“And he was different but I had just gotten free from my parents and I hated everything I suppose.” Sirius puts his head in his hands as he takes a deep breath and holds it. James gives him a look and after a few painful seconds he releases the air, feeling empty. “He adored me James. Do you realise how that makes me feel now?”

“Why did he stop?” James sounds curious as well as a bit afraid of the answer. Afraid it’s going to be an answer that also applies to him. After all, Lily obviously stopped adoring James as well.

“I left, no promises.”

James nods, his face paling. It’s the same, of course it’s the same. Maybe the answer is the same for all those who travels?

There’s only so long you can talk about something without breaking down, and Sirius and James has already wasted so much time just reminiscing. When they leave James clutches Sirius close, his hands clammy and heart pounding hard enough for Sirius to feel against his own chest.

“We have each other,” James promises and… and it helps. Sirius clutches James back and for a while they stand there, finding strength in each other’s arms. They promise to meet up tomorrow afternoon, and it’s good Sirius thinks. Good that he has something, someone that understands him.

When he gets home he seats himself at his desk. Fingers moving restlessly as he thinks about what he would put in a letter to Moony. Would he tell him he loves him? Or would that be weird? He thinks about how Moony wanted to be turned away from him last time they had sex, how he didn’t want Sirius to stay. It hurts to think about it. Of how Sirius had thrust into Moony, sweet and scorching hot Moony while choking back tears.

It hadn’t been good sex, and it scares Sirius. Not as much as Moony wanting to meet up, but still. He and Moony didn’t have bad sex. They just didn’t.

He thinks that maybe Moony has already given up, and then he thinks about how he didn’t show to the café, and all of a sudden Sirius is writing furiously. He’s writing about how he regrets going away when they were younger, of how he wants to make it up to Moony, about how he wants to be whatever Moony needs; be it a friend, fuckbuddy or lover. Sirius simply writes.

In the end there are five pages placed in front of him. Four and a half too many, he knows this. But he can’t take any words back, these are all words he wants Moony to read, to know. But he should keep himself short, he knows that Moony doesn’t feel the same so he won’t read five pages of Sirius spilling his pathetic feelings in black and white. So, Sirius has to do better.

He begins again, and this time he tries to limit himself, to make it all shorter. After five pages he gives up. This time it’s longer, how can it be longer?

The night drags on, and Sirius could be up doing this forever, but he decides not to. Instead he tortures himself by listening to one of Moony’s songs. One about how he’s holding on to something good, someone kind and warm. Someone not Sirius. He cries a little but at least he falls to sleep after that.

The next day he goes to university after missing out on the first three days.

It’s bad, but not as bad as he’d expected. There’s a nice boy called Arthur who helps him get around. He’s tall and ginger and has this thing where he says fascinating about all new things they learn. Back in the day Sirius would probably look at him and yell “Nerd,” but now he’s just happy he’s not alone. Arthur seems to know loads and he helps him to do a late registration and shows him where to buy books. He even introduces him to a sharp girl called Minerva and a big bloke named Rubeus.

“You can call me Hagrid,” he tells Sirius as he shakes his hand. Minerva just rolls her eyes fondly as she yells to someone not to run in the hallway. Sirius suspects Minerva was born to be a teacher.

All in all, a fairly good first day and Sirius feels better. It’s not healthy to break down as he had and now he’s getting back up again, that’s good. Still, it hasn’t stopped hurting. And Sirius should do something about that, no, he must do something about that.

He takes off his boots as he steps into his small dorm room, mind going a hundred miles per hour. He thinks that perhaps he should just send the letter. But then his phone rings again. Of course it’s Moony, who else would it be.

Sirius is afraid, but at the same time he doesn’t hesitate. He answers.

***

_Remus_

Remus is making out with a guy whose arms are large and who’s mouth is hot. Broad hands are traveling over his back and stopping at his ass, squeezing slowly.

“You feel so good,” the man mutters with a too dark voice. And Remus is slightly put off by it despite how he once again seals his mouth over the stranger’s and kiss away.

Remus is not really enjoying himself, but he needs a distraction. Because of course Sirius had answered when he’d called earlier and of course he’d taken Remus’ cold voice with nothing else than calm acceptance. Sirius isn’t with him because of anything other than sex so shouldn’t he be put off by the yelling Remus did? The yelling where he told Sirius he was a piece of work and how he could just shove it where the sun don’t shine.

Instead he’d apologised and begged to meet.

Remus is a mess. And he needs a distraction. Mr Large and Muscles is a good distraction. There’s small kisses raining down his throat and Remus can’t help but remember that the last person who kissed him there was Sirius. Sirius with his goofy smile and soft hands. Sirius who’d taken Remus yelling in stoic silence and apologised. For some reason Remus had expected the whole thing to turn out differently. He’d expected Sirius to yell back and then he’d expected them to never talk again.

He’s just been a mess of late. And it’s Sirius fault. Stupid, fucking Sirius who now wants to meet up tomorrow (“ _whenever you want Moony_ ”) and talk. They would have been able to talk at the café. Remus had sat there for an hour waiting for fucks sake.

Fuck.

He presses into the stranger, allowing their hips to slide against one another as he fits his tongue into the stranger’s mouth. The stranger lets out a moan and squeezes his arse tighter, making them almost mend as they thrust against each other on the packed dancefloor. It’s a lot of celebrities and models in this club. Remus is fairly certain this guy moving against him is neither though, too many muscles. Must be some sort of athlete, or maybe someone’s fit brother?

After a while they leave the dance floor where they’d basically been dry humping anyhow. There’s room on offer on the second floor and it isn’t long before Remus and Mr Stranger is tumbling into a fairly large bedroom, still with their tongues in each other’s throats.

“Fuck,” the guy whispers as he moves his hands underneath Remus’ shirt, scratching slightly. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says again, this time with a deeper voice, hungrier.

Remus allows his shirt to be stripped, allows the stranger to cup his cock and massage it slightly while nibbling at his neck cords. It’s good, rough hands on his soft skin, a hot mouth at his neck and a hard cock grinding into his denim-clad arse from behind.

They make it quite far until Remus realises he’s crying.

Well, it’s not even Remus who realises it, it’s the stranger who stops all of a sudden and instead looks at him with concerned eyes.

“What,” Remus tries to say but his voice breaks and suddenly he realises that he’s crying and the next thing escaping is a heavy sob. That is followed by another sob, and soon he’s wailing into the bed while a half-dressed stranger is panicking beside him.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

“Is there anyone I should call?” The stranger tries to be gentle but Remus just can’t stop. Can’t pull himself the fuck together. He should be fine, he should be on this bed getting his arse pounded and mind whitened. Instead he’s wailing like a five-year old, and he just can’t stop, the tears won’t stop.

But the stranger doesn’t let Remus’ state – a state not too unlike that of a waterfall – paralyze him for long,  because he grabs hold of Remus’ phone sooner rather than later. He dials.

“Hi, yeah this is the latest number called and… you know Remus Lupin right?”

Remus’ shaking, he’s getting torn apart and this isn’t good. He hates this, hates it!

“He’s at Magic, the club in Kensington. Yeah… he’s pretty torn up.”

The stranger continues to talk to whoever’s on the phone (probability Moody) and Remus continues to sob, fingers like claws into the sheets underneath him. He just wants to go home, he just desperately wants to go home. He might also want Lily and Tonks. They would probably scold him for being like this, he isn’t usually like this, someone who tries to fuck away worries, but it had worked before. Sometimes…

The stranger lingers awkwardly in the room for another ten minutes, dressed and hovering. Remus ignores him as tears keep on pouring. At least his sobs have stopped, now he’s just breathing wetly into the cotton.

The knock on the door can’t come more than ten minutes later.

“Fuck thank god,” the guy breathes out as he goes to the door, opens it.

Remus doesn’t register who it is until a familiar shape sits down on the bed next to him.

“Oh, Moony,” someone whispers sadly.

It can’t be- it shouldn’t be. Why? Why!?

But it is Sirius sitting there, and he looks good. A bit tired perhaps but he looks good all in all. Remus can’t help the sob that breaks through his lips at the sight of him, of him and everything he brings with him. He wants to fall into Sirius, fall _in-to_ him and live there, surrounded by the scent of leather and pine trees, surrounded by tanned arms and silvery eyes. But he won’t get that. And isn’t that sad? Isn’t that horrible and unfairly sad?

He shouldn’t feel shame because it isn’t like him and Sirius is exclusive in any way, but he still wants to throw up. Just like the first time he had sex with someone not-Sirius he wants to throw up and grovel, he wants to cry to Sirius that it was a mistake that “please don’t leave me.”

Perhaps he didn’t mean to say that last bit out loud, but he did.

And Sirius moves closer, hugs Remus.

Remus should put some distance between them, he should absolutely not cling tighter and cry harder, he should not whimper and allow Sirius’ low voice to comfort him. But Remus is weak when it comes to Sirius… always has been.

“You’re good Moony,” Sirius whispers as they lay on the bed. Remus still doesn’t wear a shirt and his trousers are almost halfway down. But perhaps that doesn’t matter. “Listen to me, you’re so good and wonderful. I’m so lucky to just hold you.”

Sirius continues to whisper words and Remus is too tired to fight them, too tired not to grab them greedily and hold them close to his heart. He wants them, he wants them so much he might cry a bit more just because of it.

Sirius’ hands are warm as they move across his back. And Sirius knows that Remus likes to be scratched gently, knows that Remus relaxes when he grasps his nape firmly, Sirius knows all of that and more. Remus is putty in Sirius’ hands and he doesn’t mind because he feels safe. He feels loved, despite it being a lie, despite Sirius just being nice, he feels loved.

Because that’s the dream. To have Sirius love him. And he wants Sirius to love him. He _desperately_ wants Sirius to love him. But still. It’s just a dream.

After a while Sirius coaxes a tired Remus up, steering him easily as Remus allows himself to be manhandled, allows himself to fall a bit into Sirius. Just the tiniest bit, like submerging your hand into cool water a hot summer day. It’s nice, it’s _so_ nice.

Sirius dresses him as good as he can. Steering Remus’ limbs with soft hands and encouraging words. Remus should feel embarrassed. He’s a grown man getting dressed by the very person who’s made him the happiest but also the saddest. But Sirius is just so nice about it. Why is he nice about it? Why doesn’t he love Remus? Because Remus could be so good to Sirius, he could be so incredible good…

“Come here,” Sirius mutters, and despite how Remus has only had a few shots he feels pissed beyond belief. He clings to Sirius, tucks his face into his neck and places small kisses.

This reminds him of how he used to behave, in the beginning. When he’d thought that Sirius and he were doing more than fucking, when he’d thought they were falling in love.

They get out from the club and Moody’s there, his figure big and looming in the way security is supposed to be. But Moody knows Sirius, have seen him come and go enough times for him to be trusted, to be marked as safe in Moody’s handbook. A book he denies he has but which Remus simply knows exist no matter Moody’s denial.

There is a car ride and Remus clings a bit desperately, muttering “Pads, pads, please.” He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but Sirius keeps whispering reassurances, keeps himself close and keeps cuddling Remus despite him not deserving it. He’d screamed and slammed the phone in Sirius ear not five hours ago, he shouldn’t be held.

The ride is silent, no radio and no loud voices more than the small whispering in the backseat. Remus allows his body to relax, perhaps for the first time in forever. He’s probably weak, a small part of his brain thinks, but a much larger part is busy preening and sucking up the warmth, cementing this memory to make this very moment last forever.

They return to Remus’ penthouse. It’s on the upper floor and there’s a backway elevator that won’t draw attention like entering through the lobby would. Remus stumbles along as Sirius directs him into the elevator, out the elevator, into the apartment, to the bed.

Remus grasps blindly after Sirius and kisses his cheek slowly. It’s slightly rough, he hasn’t been shaving. Remus likes that, Sirius not shaving, it makes him look ruggedly handsome. It also tickles as he leaves kisses down Remus’ stomach, in Remus’ palm, on his neck.

“Here we go,” Sirius mumbles softly, fondly. He takes off Remus’ shoes, his tight jeans, his shirt and socks. Remus makes a soft noise, can’t really stop himself as familiar hands run down his body. It’s warm, this darkness around him, around Sirius and him.

It isn’t strange somehow, how Sirius ends up in bed with Remus, kissing his nose and stroking his cheekbones. They’re close like this, Sirius dressed and Remus down to his briefs. Their eyes are locked, and Remus is drowning in silver.

“You’re wonderful,” Sirius whispers and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. He smiles sadly even as his large hands cup Remus’ face. “You’re so wonderful Moony. Best thing I’ve ever had.”

Remus isn’t even noticing the way his eyes flood over, tears slowly seeping through his pale lashes. “You’re so…” He doesn’t know what to say. “Stay,” he comes up with in the end.

Sirius nods gravely and leans in to place another lingering kiss on Remus’ mouth. He stays there, their nose and lips touching. They breathe the same air and their legs tangle together. Remus throws his arms around Sirius and they can’t get closer than this, it’s impossible. The only way would be if Sirius was fucking him and somehow, that he isn’t is making this moment feel closer.

Remus’ eyes flutter shut against his will as he breathes in Sirius’ air. Fingers are playing on the sides of his face, tugging at his hair gently and it’s like being cocooned in the only thing he’d ever wanted. It’s like precious things hiding in darkness… warm, thick darkness.

 _Please_ , Remus begs as he scratches Sirius’ nape with the tip of his fingers. _Please, let it be like this… forever_.

***

The morning light is warm. It’s also annoying and it’s making Remus’ head hurt something terrible. But there’s limbs tangled with his own and lips against his nose and it’s nice. It’s also familiar, the scent of faint leather, pine trees and something entirely uniquely Sirius. _Pads_.

Remus cracks an eye open and finds himself staring at the sleeping face of Sirius. His eyes are closed and he looks beautiful like this. Almost at peace as he slowly breathes in and out, arms and feet still tangled with Remus’.

Remus remembers yesterday, and it’s with growing regret and shame. The word seems tilted and he feels a bit sick. Why did Sirius show up? It’s not like he’s his caretaker. Still, how humiliating.

Remus detangles himself with difficulty. Sirius seems adamant on holding on, a small whine escaping his lips as he clings to Remus with a sleepy determination. However, he stays asleep and Remus gets out of broad hands and treacherous warmth. He barely makes it to the loo before throwing up.

 _It’s the shots_ , he tries to tell himself despite knowing that it’s not only the shots. It’s this whole thing, where he lets Sirius come over whenever he wants and fuck him and hold him and then be gone the next day to do exactly that to someone else. It’s not healthy because Remus isn’t strong, he’s kitten weak and he _can’t_ do this.

It should be a surprise, the warm hands landing on his back and petting softly. “Hey,” Sirius offers as he kneels next to Remus, his clothes wrinkled from a night of sleep. Remus leans over as he pukes again, making a fairly unattractive choking sound. Not that Sirius seems bothered. Instead, he keeps slowly petting his back, rubbing small circles and scratching soothingly. He also fetches Remus water and prepares a cold, wet towel.

“I have one for your forehead as well,” he tells him as he carefully places one of the wet towels on him, cooling Remus’ hot skin. “But we’ll wait with that one. You’re doing so good Moony.”

Remus doesn’t puke more, but he stays there in the bathroom. He’s gathering himself, trying to force scattered pieces of his very being to mend for just the coming ten minutes.

“Enough,” he tells Sirius who without further instructions carefully helps him back to the bed, tucking him underneath the covers and placing the promised towel over his forehead. It’s heaven, the cold when he’s so disgustingly hot.

Sirius leaves the room with a “be right back” before Remus can do much more than blink. But Sirius does return, and he has soup with him and water and pills for his hangover. Remus doesn’t want to be coddled, doesn’t want to have Sirius take care of him with soft, silvery eyes. It makes it harder. Because he wants this to be real and it isn’t… it just isn’t.

“Here.” Sirius fusses as he helps him with the pills, his soup, all the while muttering soft encouragements, hands gentle and face happy. Like doing this for Remus makes him happy when in reality the only thing it does is making no sense.

So, Remus breathes and avoids looking at Sirius as much as possible. Then, when Sirius thinks it’s a good idea to change the towel on his forehead, fingers lingering and scratching against his scalp, Remus blurts out: “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

There’s a second where Sirius freezes, eyes growing wide and a bit empty.

“Oh,” he breathes out and Remus has to look away. Because this is it, and it’s good. Lily thought it was good and Remus will think that this is good. The end… A good thing. In a couple of years… maybe ten years… whenever he’s found someone loving him back and realises how good it can be, how much it _doesn’t_ have to hurt.

Remus breathes out harshly and ignores his bleeding heart. “I’m sorry.” And damn why does his voice have to wobble like this. It’s not like he’s going to cry, that would be pathetic. You don’t cry just because you stop seeing a fuckbuddy. “It’s nothing you have done or anything.” _You could have loved me back_ , he thinks. _You should have_. “But it’s time.”

It’s time indeed.

Sirius doesn’t answer for a moment and Remus forces himself to look up, forces himself to at least face Sirius one last time. Fuck, this can’t be the last time. His heart is beating hard and Remus tells himself that this has to be the last time, at least for a couple of years. But maybe forever.

Sirius looks a bit wrecked as he meets Remus' eyes, shoulders sagging but his eyes shining of acceptance, like maybe he suspected that this would be coming. “All right,” he says softly, voice a bit wobbling as well.

Remus didn’t think Sirius would care, but he does perhaps. It’s not like you can fuck for four years and not feel anything for one another. After all, before this started they’d been friends. Remus thinks back to that summer, that summer that had been everything. Happiness, love, friendship but also a lie. Because in the end, Sirius had left without promises, ‘ _no strings attached’_ as he’d said himself.

“There’s just so much going on,” Remus says. “And this, us, has been going on for so many years. And it’s not going to lead to anything… There’s just no point in continuing.”

Sirius shakes his head, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. And why does Remus feel like he’s the one ripping Sirius’ heart out? It’s not like that, he can’t even do that. Sirius doesn’t love him, doesn’t even have a fucking crush on him. He deems Remus’ body good enough to fuck, that’s pretty much it.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Sirius assures. He wipes a hand over his eyes and yeah… Pads is fucking crying. Just the sight of it makes Remus cry, because of course it does and Pads laugh softly. “Look at us,” he hiccups even as more tears fall down his face. “It’s fine Moony. Don’t cry.”

And he holds Remus close. Hugs him despite this being the end and Remus doesn’t know what to think. He doesn’t think people usually hug other people when they’re telling them they don’t want to see them again. Doesn’t think Sirius is quite sane but at the same time he clings back. Digs his fingers into Sirius’ back and clings, doesn’t ever want to let go. Remus wants to scream at him that it isn’t fair, why is he sad? Why doesn’t he love Remus? His Moony?

Sirius cries into Remus' neck and they sit there, miserable and holding on.

“Why are you crying?” Remus asks between small sobs. Confused and so, so sad. His heart is wailing blood and there’s something squeezing his chest together in the most uncomfortable of ways.

Sirius laughs wetly, but it doesn’t sound joyful, it sounds sad. “My mind is stuck on this stupid quote,” he says instead of answering Remus’ question. “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

Remus gives a startled laugh at Sirius quoting motivational posters in the middle of this... This storm of hurt and destruction of everything.

“It’s stupid I know,” Sirius whimpers, his voice breaking. “But it fits and this is so, so hard.”

He keeps holding Remus close and Remus allows it to happen. When they finally drift apart, Sirius looks like a sloppy mess of broken feelings. His face slightly red and his eyes puffy. He looks like sadness herself has painted his face in all her dark and lonesome colours. And it breaks Remus’ heart.

 _Don’t cry_ , he wants to tell Sirius. _You don’t care so don’t cry_.

But Sirius _does_ care. Not the right care mind you, but this meant something to him _. And that’s something_ Remus thinks, his chest unclenching just the tiniest bit. _That’s at least something_. At least he isn’t the only one wrapped up in Sirius, perhaps Sirius had been the tiniest bit wrapped up in him as well.

He doesn’t know if it makes a difference. He wonders if it’s too late now anyhow.

Sirius drags a hand over his face once more, straightening up as if to tell himself ‘enough’. He gives Remus a fragile smile, it’s bleak but not insincere. If Sirius wasn’t in pieces he would want to give Remus a real smile, broad and with teeth, at least that much is obvious.

“Be happy Moony,” he tells Remus with something like longing in his eyes. “Don’t worry about me because I’ll be alright. Just do what makes you happy.”

And that. Those very words make Remus realise that he _can’t_ do this…

He just fucking _can’t_ do this!

It’s too fucking much because he had been happy. He’d been fucking overjoyed for a whole summer and now Sirius is sitting here looking all self-sacrificing telling him to be happy. _Fuck_. _That_.

So, Remus doesn’t do this whole ‘ _breaking-up-thing’_ gracefully. Of course, he doesn’t, that wouldn’t be Remus.

So instead of sitting there like a sane person and tell Sirius to his face to _be happy you too_ , he snaps. Well kind of anyhow.

“You made me happy,” Remus bites out before he can think properly about it. “But then you left! Traveled around the world and left me with nothing. Fucking nothing!”

In the beat of ringing silence after Remus’ outburst, Remus manages to regret everything he’s ever done in his entire life from the moment he was born. _Pathetic_.

But then Sirius stops looking flabbergasted and close to leaps forward with unmasked desperation and Remus can’t help but look at him like he’s crazy. Because Sirius' face is raw and a bit hopeful and he’s moving scarily fast towards Remus where he sits propped up against the headboard.

Remus just manages to get up his hands between them before Sirius almost crashes into him. “What!?” He kind of yells even as Sirius’ broad hands close around his wrists hard, _desperately_ hard.

“Moony,” his voice is hoarse. “Moony, Moony,” he chants and presses closer, using his body to force them to come face to face. Sirius always had been stronger. Remus is still fucking confused about what’s going on.

But when Sirius whispers “I love you,” right into his face before placing an off-angled kiss to the corner of his mouth and Remus' brain goes online.

His head is hurting and he's wrung out, completely wrung out. Despite it all, he manages to kind of push Sirius away, to the right of the bed. Sirius almost immediately starts crawling back towards him once again, only stopping after Remus barks out a “Stop!”

He does, but his eyes – which are still puffy because _apparently_ Remus had been about to break his heart – look at him hungrily. More so than ever before and Remus gets the urge to pinch himself. This can’t possibly be real.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asks nobody in particular despite how he really would like a recap of what just happened.

Sirius’ hand is moving forward sneakily towards where Remus’ hand is fisting the sheets. Like maybe if he only does it stealthy enough he can hold Remus’ hand without Remus noticing. The notion is baffling, it’s fucking baffling that what it is. Remus doesn’t know what to think.

“Stop it,” he barks out again and Sirius pouts. How can he pout? How even dare he tell Remus he loves him? The guts of this one!

Sirius is looking at him as if he’d be more than willing to fuck Remus into the bed if only given the go-ahead. Or maybe he just wants to cuddle aggressively? It’s hard to tell.

Remus needs to clear up this mess, quickly. His heart won’t be able to take this much longer. “You don’t love me,” is the first thing he tells Sirius. He needs clarification, needs to know if he should prepare an assassination of Sirius if he’s fucking around for some godforsaken reason. Most of all he needs to calm the fuck down before he’s irrevocably hurt beyond what he can take.

“I do,” Sirius – lovely, stubborn, Sirius – objects. He looks like the wind where he’s perched on the bed on all four. Looks like an image that should only be able to exist in dreams, Remus’ dreams.

Dreams. Dreams where Sirius loves him.

For a moment Remus fears that he’s going to wake up. Wake up to an empty bed and his heart breaking.

“No,” and his voice is hoarse. “You don’t love me.” He knows this. It’s another fact of life. The grass is green, the sky is blue and Sirius Black doesn’t love Remus Lupin.

“Oh Moony,” and Sirius looks sad again. This time Remus doesn’t stop Sirius when he grabs his hand, holding it tightly between his two larger hands. “I do love you,” his voice is shaking. “I love you something terrible. And I need to say this. I even wrote a letter and all.”

 _A letter_? Remus’ mind is spinning. _What is Sirius talking about_?

“And I didn’t know how I would get it to you you know,” Sirius moves closer. “You’re so famous and you get so many letters every day. I was scared you’d never get it. My letter. The words I wanted to tell you.”

“Words?”

Sirius is close now, his body hot and inviting. Remus’ is still trying to get his head around all this. Sirius loves him? He wants to deny the words on instinct, he barely survived last time he’d believed it. But Sirius looks sincere. And despite that Sirius has been cruel, he’s never been so intentional. He’s never come around and thrown words, feelings in Remus’ face if he didn’t mean them.

Sirius loves him…

“Moony,” and Sirius is straddling him, holding Remus’ pale face in his rough hands. “I’ve been an idiot. A fucking idiot.”

“You have,” Remus agrees even as something terrible is happening inside his chest. It’s like it’s expending from the inside. “You’ve been such a huge fucking idiot.”

Sirius lets out a desperate laugh. His mouth touching Remus’ briefly.

“I think I’ve always loved you,” he says. And Remus knows that no matter how tough Sirius might look like, he’s scared. Shivering on the inside. It’s all in his eyes, always has been. “Even when I was too stupid to know it I couldn’t stay away from here, from you.”

Remus allows the small, desperate kisses to rain over him. He turns his face upward, allowing the wonderful pecks to hit him more easily. His ribs might crack soon, that’s how much his inner is growing. He might be happy, might feel something like true happiness. It’s scary. _God_ , it’s scary.

“And it just hit me,” Sirius tells him, his grey eyes bravely meeting Remus’ amber. “That I love you. That I want to be with you. Only you.”

“Do you know how long I waited.” Remus is crying again. How many times can you cry in 24 hours really? “It’s been years.”

“I know Moony,” Sirius is crying as well. They’re both just a bunch of cry-babies, it’s a relief. “And ever since I realised it, that there’s no reason for you to love me back because I’ve been such a dick, I’ve been scared.”

Sirius strokes his thumbs over his cheekbones, hands still cradling his face.

“It scared me so much Moony. The thought of being without you.”

It’s like something snaps into place within Remus. Something as natural as his bones.

“You love me,” Remus tells Sirius, and he believes the words. His chest is not even a chest anymore, it’s just miles and miles of open space, wind, and sun. Blazing sun. “You love me.”

Sirius grins down at him, like just maybe they’ve just found a bit of heaven together. A little bit of heaven in an apartment at the top of a building, in an unmade bed.

Remus can’t really be blamed if he starts wailing. And Sirius can’t really be blamed if he whispers the words again and again in Remus’ ear. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

***

_Four years earlier._

Remus walks down the dirt road slowly. It’s in the middle of the summer and his glasses keeps slipping down his nose. It’s just too hot… the sun makes his skin sting and he feels too dry. He shouldn’t have gone out today. Should have just stayed at home, playing his guitar. But he’d thought that Simon would actually have kept his promise. That Simon would actually have shown up so that they could hang out. But he should have known better, Simon had changed after he’d started to date Moa. Now he never had time with Remus anymore.

Remus should probably stop being friends with him. Should probably just delete his number from his phone. Problem was that if Remus got rid of Simon his remaining friend count would be zero. Goddamn.

He sniffs a bit because maybe he pities himself, maybe he questions his ability to be funny, talented and not ugly.

What’s even that great about a girlfriend, he thinks. Or a boyfriend for that matter.

He hears something in the far-off distance as he continues to stumble forward. The road feels endless mixed with this heat. If only his bicycle hadn’t gotten stolen last night.

The sound of something alike a motor draws closer and Remus decides to stop walking. He turns towards from where the sound is rapidly approaching. It seems to be a motorcycle. He doesn’t really think of it as its closing in, too busy wondering if maybe Simon was tired of Remus. If he just needed an excuse to get rid of him. If maybe Remus wasn’t meant to have friends. He sure as hell can’t seem to keep any he makes. Maybe something’s wrong with him…

There’s a man riding the motorcycle and Remus’ heavy thoughts are pushed to the side as he gets a closer look at the man riding the bike. He can’t be much older than Remus, just a year maybe two, and he looks… well…

Remus suddenly sort of gets the appeal of having a boyfriend. Because this man, God, he’s beautiful.

He might be standing gawking, slightly frozen in place as he marvels at the man slowing down his bike. _He’s considerate_ , Remus can’t help but think dreamily. Most people would have blasted by, not caring that they were driving down a dirt road, leaving behind clouds of dust in the air. But this man is different. Different with his long raven hair flying behind him and with his tank-top saying “ _What doesn’t kill me better run_.”

The man shouldn’t stop, he should just keep on going. He shouldn’t stop to talk to Remus with his ratty T-shirt and fragile self-esteem. Remus who doesn’t have any friends, whose only real talent is playing silly songs on his guitar.

But the man _does_ stop.

“Hi!” His voice is dark, but not too dark, Remus shivers. He tries to look cute despite knowing it’s a losing battle. He’s sweaty yet dry _and_ a mess. He’s simply unattractive. Of course he is.

Still… “Hi,” he blushes. Luckily the heat is already causing his face redden so perhaps the stranger doesn’t notice his blush. The one good thing about being a tomato-face Remus things bitterly. At least attractive people won’t know you have a crush.

The stranger wears ‘ _being overheated’_ good. Something Remus thought was impossible. The slight sweat sort of makes him look like a filthy dream. Remus doesn’t have filthy dreams, he’s too innocent for that. He’s never even been kissed. At most Remus has dreamed of touching someone else, of someone else touching him. Now, all of a sudden, he wonders what’s hiding in the stranger’s low sitting shorts. The way the Tank-top has sort of ridden up leaves a clear view of sharp hipbones. God.

The stranger must get that Remus is drooling because he gives him a knowing smirk.

Remus feels himself blush again (thank god for tomato-face) even as he fruitlessly tries to think of something to say.

“We don’t get a lot of new people here,” he settles on. He’s pretty sure that is something his mum says as an ice-breaker when talking to strangers. Perhaps he should feel a bit awkward quoting his mum. But right now he couldn’t care less.

“What?” The stranger is still smirking like Remus doesn’t fool him for one bit. “Not a lot of new people you say. A place like this.” He gestures out towards open fields with strong arms, he’s sarcastic. Of course he’s sarcastic, this is pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. The country side.

“Har har,” Remus dare say.

The stranger gives him a smile that’s less sarcastic and more genuine. Remus believes that his heart just skipped several beats. _Oh lord_.

“I bet a fella like yourself have your days fully booked.”

Remus bites his lower lip as he looks into the stranger's silvery eyes. “Nah, not really.” He thinks of Simon and Moa and how this summer has been shite so far. Utter shite. For some reason, it feels like maybe this stranger is going to change that.

“No friends to hang out with?” The stranger is teasing but somehow he’s hitting a little too close to home.

Remus shakes his head. It’s just a friendly jab from a stranger, he can’t possibly know that Remus is alone and unwanted. That his only friend, Simon, easily threw him aside as soon as some girl came along. “Nope,” the way his voice is shaking a bit is not hidden by his tomato-face.

The stranger’s face soften. “Sounds like there’s a bunch of stupid fuck-heads living around these parts then. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you.”

Remus feels a small smile break out on his face.

“What do you say,” the stranger bends forward on his bike, sweaty and beautiful and Remus feels a sudden stab of _want_. “Me, you, the sunset.”

“But it’s midday.”

“Details,” the stranger extents his hand. “Sirius Black.” He looks like adventure where he’s sitting on his bike.

Remus shakes his hand carefully. “Remus Lupin.”

The stranger’s – Sirius’ – grip is firm, steady. Remus likes it at once.

“So,” the stranger motions to Remus to jump up behind him on the bike. He probably shouldn’t. Sirius could be a crazy murderer for all he knows. But Remus still does it. Because that means that he gets to put his arms around Sirius’ firm middle and apparently Remus got brave in the last five minutes. Because Remus has never done this before. Never _dared_ to do this before.

“Easy Remus,” Sirius puts a broad, rough hand over his. Squeezing Remus’ hand softly where it lies against Sirius’ middle. “So Remus,” he says even as the bike sort of sways dangerously. “Where to? What do people do around here?”

There’s a big bag behind where Remus sits. Maybe Sirius is a backpacker? Maybe he’s out traveling the English countryside? “Not much,” he answers truthfully, arms tightening slightly around Sirius’ middle. “Play the guitar.” He blushes again even as the words spill over his chapped lips. He shouldn’t have said that.

“Really?” Sirius sounds delighted.

“Or not,” Remus wishes he could take back the words from earlier, could put them back in his mouth and swallow them down. He doesn’t play that well in front of others. “I’m not really any good.”

“Nuh uh” Sirius objects. “Something tells me you’re a beast at it.”

Remus doesn’t quite know what to say. All he knows is that his heart is beating faster and he’s fighting a smile.

“You know,” Sirius continues. “I’ve always had a thing for guys playing the guitar.”

Suddenly Remus can’t get home fast enough. He wants to play for Sirius, wants it desperately. He might be shaking. “Straight ahead,” he tells him in a rough voice. “I’ll tell you when to turn right.” He thinks of their summer house. Thinks of the living room where his guitar is hanging on the wall. He thinks of Sirius and him lounging outside. Thinks of Sirius listening to him play and looking at him with hooded eyes. Thinks of them kissing… _oh god_.

They drive away.

Later that night, Remus has his first kiss.

Four years later, Remus gets his first boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!   
> My hope is to continue this story! This was just an introduction to this Universe. I hope that there will be loads of you guys who'll want to join me on this journey!
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this story all of its own. I've tried to write a bit different from how I usually write. Usually, I put loads of work into each scene's pacing, but here I've decided to have a more floating sort of perspective working through the story. Time isn't as "linear" as I usually write. Hope you liked the pacing of this story, because me myself really liked writing it like this. 
> 
> Also, the story. I always like my story angsty (it's the most horrible addiction of mine) and this is no exception. I don't personally ship Lily and Remus in any way (maybe it's obvious but then again maybe it's not) but their interaction in this story will have consequences further on (just you wait!). 
> 
> I would also like to put a disclaimer on everything I write about English Uni, stardom and studying to become a teacher. I don't know much about any of it.
> 
> Anyhow, leave a comment and kudos if you liked it and want more of this odd duo! I would love to hear your opinion of it all! :)
> 
> Until next time,  
> Stay awesome!


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